


locked in the closet (again)

by haleofStilesheart



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, College Student Castiel, College Student Dean, First Kiss, Getting Together, Jock Dean, Kissing, M/M, Meddling Balthazar, Meddling Gabriel, Nerd Castiel, Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester, Parties, Seven Minutes In Heaven, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 14:03:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11991336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: Castiel's older brothers, Gabriel and Balthazar, are complete and utter assholes. Their latest dick move? Locking Castiel in the closet with his longtime crush Dean Winchester.





	locked in the closet (again)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mishascloud](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=mishascloud).



> For the prompt: College!AU 7 minutes of heaven ?

Castiel was going to kill his brothers. He was going to slit their throats, eviscerate them, and burn their bodies just for fun. Right after he got out of the closet they had locked him.

He banged his fist against the door again. As expected, there was no response from either Gabriel or Balthazar, the fucking bastards. Trying again, he growled, "Gabriel! Let me out of here!"

"No can do, baby bro," Gabriel's sing-song voice sounded through the door, slightly muffled yet full of glee. "It hasn't even been a minute yet!"

"Let me out!" Castiel hissed, desperation bleeding into his voice. Smacking his palm against the door hard enough to make it tremble on its hinges, he snarled, "I'm gonna kick both of your asses!"

"Oh, please, Cassie. You couldn't kick your own ass," Balthazar scoffed from the other side of the door. Castiel could perfectly envision his brother's eye roll as he reported, in his smarmy accent, "Now, just enjoy your time with the hairless ape and send me a fruit basket later for my efforts."

"Give it up, dude," another voice instructed, this one much closer than Gabriel and Balthazar's. "They're not letting us out till our seven minutes are up."

Castiel let out a huff, pushing his glasses further up his nose, a habit of his exacerbated by stress and anxiety both of which he had in spades thanks to his siblings. Crossing his arms over his chest, Castiel narrowed his eyes at his closet cell mate.

In the low light of the closet, he could just barely make out Dean's defined features. He could see the firm, sharp line of Dean's jaw, the disheveled mess of his not quite light brown not quite dirty blonde hair, the soft plush pink of his bottom lip.

His shoulders were so wide he almost had to hunch them just to fit into the closet they had been unceremoniously shoved into. His gray Guns N' Roses t-shirt was stretched tight across his chest and biceps, half of the latter on full, unabashed display.

Cas shifted awkwardly, dipping his chin and staring down at his hands as he fiddled with the hem of his own t-shirt. He raised his head, snapping his eyes up to Dean's, when Dean grunted, "What's your problem, dude?"

Castiel's problem was that twenty eight years ago his father had decided to have another child, a son named Gabriel who made it his mission in life to torment his younger siblings. Well, that wasn't entirely true. There was only one younger sibling Gabriel tormented. Castiel.

Why, Castiel didn't know, especially since Gabriel had an unusually large pool of younger siblings to pick from. But ever since he could remember, Gabriel had been a thorn in his side, a thorn he loved dearly but a thorn nonetheless.

Balthazar, who was two years younger than Gabriel and six years older than Castiel, had followed in his brother's footsteps and devoted his life to ruining Castiel's. It was a family business, apparently.

When Castiel was in junior high school, his older brothers had wrapped every single thing in his room in sparkly gold wrapping paper. And he meant everything. Every last pen, book, and article of clothing he had opened had to be unwrapped.

In high school, they had broken into the school in the middle of the night and filled his locker with glitter. For the next two years of high school, he had still been finding glitter in his textbooks and spiral notebooks.

Now, in his junior year of college, his older brothers had locked him in a closet with the guy he'd had a crush on for months. Because, as he'd said, his brothers were assholes and took advantage of his weakness for vodka to question him about the identity of his mysterious, pathetic crush.

When Gabriel and Balthazar had learned it was none other than Dean Winchester, resident overconfident, overcompensating butch jock, they'd had a field day. The teasing had seemed endless, full of jokes about Cas falling for a textbook example of a closet case and actual ballads written about the dorky English Literature major falling for the cocky football player.

Castiel had met Dean in his music class, an elective that would count as an art class. Balthazar had suggested that he take a music class rather than a visual art class since he was already a rather good painter, encouraging Castiel to learn a new skill.

Dean had caught his attention the second he walked into the room, sauntering in with half-lidded eyes and a lazy smirk. Castiel had been so captivated by Dean's good looks that he hadn't even noticed the green eyed man had taken a seat beside him and introduced himself.

Castiel had belatedly snapped to attention and shaken Dean's hand, introducing himself and trying not to drool at the adorably confused look Dean had given him. Then, he'd had to refrain from sighing dreamily when Dean gave him a nickname, the name  _ Cas  _ sounding so sweet on his lips.

The only thing sweeter was the melody Dean strummed on an acoustic guitar for the class after admitting to their professor that he already knew how to play a few instruments.

Over the rest of the semester, he had gotten to know Dean much better whenever their professor paired them up, Dean more than happy to help Castiel with remembering chords on the guitar. Three months after first meeting the model gorgeous football player, Castiel knew all sorts of things about him: he had a younger brother named Sam; drove a 1967 Chevy Impala; was majoring in automotive technologies so he could work at his family friend Bobby's garage; loved pie more than life itself; and was a proud bisexual despite all of his machismo that screamed 'white straight dude'.

But even knowing that Dean was in fact attracted to men, Castiel had no delusions about Dean having any interest in him. Dean was extremely out of his league, in a whole other world, with his rugged handsomeness and brilliant mind.

He had told his brothers as much since they were complete assholes, they had taken it upon themselves to drag Castiel to each and every one of Dean's football games. Castiel had never been one to enjoy sports but he had certainly taken guilty pleasure in watching Dean on the field as his brothers shouted all sorts of obscenities at the opposing team.

They had outright told him that they would never let him live his crush down. Which is why he should have been more suspicious when they both stopped mentioning Dean altogether.

He should have been more suspicious when they announced they were throwing a party at their house. When they invited a bunch of college kids despite the fact that they were both nearing their thirties.

But he hadn't been. Mostly because he had plans to barricade himself in his bedroom with some snacks so he could catch up on Game of Thrones.

Yet, an hour into the party, Gabriel practically carried him out of his bedroom and downstairs to where a crowd of people were drinking from red solo cups and dancing horribly to songs that barely had any lyrics. His grumbling had only been stopped by Balthazar thrusting a cup of vodka into his hand, the liquor mellowing him out a bit.

Enough that he didn't put up any fight when his brothers guided him over to the back room where a group of people were sitting in a circle on the floor, an empty beer bottle in the center of the circle. He was too focused on the fact that Dean was sitting in the circle, wearing a faded GNR shirt and dark jeans, his hair messy and the stubble on his jaw longer than usual.

Castiel had been just buzzed enough to not be suspicious of his brothers, just buzzed enough to completely tune Gabriel out as he explained the rules of the game. He had been too busy gazing at Dean with a dreamy smile on his face, riveted to the way Dean stuck the tip of his tongue out as he spun the empty Heineken bottle.

The next thing he knew, he was being led into the hallway closet with Dean as the others in the circle tittered like a bunch of old biddies. Among the cacophony of sounds from the party, Castiel managed to hear someone mumble a phrase he recognized, "Seven minutes in heaven."

Of course, the words only registered once his brothers locked the closet door, trapping him and Dean inside. Running a hand through his hair, he huffed and answered Dean's question, "My problem is that my brothers are assholes and locked me in a closet."

"Kinda the whole point of seven minutes in heaven, Cas," Dean pointed out, the use of the nickname making a swarm of butterflies take flight in Castiel's stomach. Scratching his jaw, Dean wondered aloud, "Were you even listening?"

Castiel felt himself blush. Rubbing his arm, he stared down at his shoes and reluctantly admitted, "Not really, no. I was a somewhat distracted."

"Oh, really?" Dean hummed, as though Castiel's confession was extremely fascinating. Castiel glanced up out of curiosity, finding Dean taking a few small steps closer, tipping his head to the side to meet Castiel's gaze. "Any reason you were so distracted?"

Castiel froze, his eyes widening as he blinked up at Dean. There was no way Dean could know, right? Castiel was always very careful about not being too obvious with his pathetic pining.

Then again, he'd had enough vodka to make him forget about his inhibitions for just a little while. And he had been doing some intense staring while sitting in that stupid circle.

His worst fears were confirmed when Dean spoke again. A smirk curling his lips, he shifted closer and casually inquired, "Maybe you were staring at someone?"

There was a cocky, teasing note in his voice that made Castiel's blood boil. Yes, he had been gawking at Dean and yes, he had a ridiculous crush on him but Dean didn't have to be such an asshole about it.

He said as much as he glared at Dean, folding his arms over his chest. "Okay, I like you. You happy now?"

"Wasn't expecting you to admit it that easily," Dean commented, raising his brows. He continued inching closer, drifting into Castiel's personal space. Setting his hands on Castiel's hips, he tacked on, "But since you asked... I'm very happy."

With that, he bent his head and kissed Castiel.

Having never been kissed before, much to his brothers' amusement, Castiel had no idea what he was supposed to do. He flailed a little as Dean pressed their lips together in a surprisingly chaste kiss before laying a hand on Dean's upper arm to steady himself.

Dean pulled back a moment later, reopening his eyes with a smile that could only be described as dopey. His brows drew together and he huffed out a laugh, his breath warm against Castiel's lips as he teased, "Never woulda thought you'd be the type to kiss with your eyes open."

Castiel flushed, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole so he could escape his embarrassment. Of course, he was supposed to close his eyes while kissing. God, he was such an idiot.

"I'm not the type to kiss. Period," Castiel admitted, lowering his eyes again. When he chanced a look upward, he was greeted by Dean's incredulous expression.

"You've never been kissed before?" Dean asked softly, inexplicable disbelief hushing his voice. When Castiel nodded, Dean blurted, "Really? But you're so cute!"

Castiel was immensely flattered by that, ducking his chin as he bit his bottom lip. He could feel his face flush with heat, thankful for the darkness in the room.

"Oh, shit," he heard Dean curse, the football player taking a step back. Castiel's eyes shot up when Dean apologetically rambled, "Are you ace? Or aro? Are you not into kissing? Shit, I'm sorry, I thought—"

"Dean," Castiel said simply, cutting Dean off before he could apologize for anything else. He tightened his grip on Dean's arm, reeling him in again as he explained, "I've just never had occasion to kiss anyone. I'm not asexual or aromantic."

"Oh," Dean murmured, nodding thoughtfully. It took another second for the apologetic look on his face to melt away into a charming grin as Dean announced, "Well, that's a relief. Because I'd really like to kiss you again."

"What are you waiting for?" Castiel asked, Dean's confession sparking his own boldness. He curled his fingers into the fabric of Dean's sleeve as he whispered, "We have a few more minutes left in heaven."

With that said, he leaned up to kiss Dean, remembering to close his eyes this time.  _ Heaven is right _ , Castiel thought as Dean eagerly returned the kiss.

Maybe his brothers weren't such assholes after all. He was still going to kick their asses, though.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr [here,](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/) maybe send me a prompt or two!


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